Kyoko and the One Coin Shop
by Super Robot Malinarlen
Summary: Kyoko goes to the 100 Yen Shop and finds 1000 yen on the ground. What kind of marvelous things will she buy? A secret admirer is watching...
1. Chapter 1: Kyoko's Treasure

**Kyoko and the One Coin Shop**

Description: Kyoko goes to the 100 Yen Shop and finds 1000 yen on the ground... What kind of marvelous things will she buy? A secret admirer is watching...

* * *

"Ahhh," Kyoko sighed quietly, staring adoringly at the tiny, bell-shaped princess figurines lining the shelf before her. With pearly painted dresses and slim waists, their large, doe-like eyes pleaded with her to buy every one of them. '_Please Kyoko,' _They seemed to say,_ 'Take us home!' _Their tiaras and wings sparkled in unison, causing the stunned girl to shield her eyes from their brilliance.

_'Little princesses,'_ Kyoko thought to herself. '..._Fairy princesses?'_

"What could you want with a commoner like me?...!" Kyoko wailed, holding her head and collapsing on her knees. "I don't have a proper garden and my room is too small!"

Walking by the hysterical girl, a young mother with a side-bun pulled her chubby little son close. "Let's go to the toy aisle," She persuaded nervously.

"But momma, we were JUST there..."

Overhearing them, Kyoko snapped from her reverie and quietly took her handbasket's plastic handle. Being on a shoestring budget, she often came to this cheap store to make domestic purchases or to stare at things she could later afford. Yes, this was the place where she bought all her necessities: shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion, pliers, screwdriver sets, and box cutters.

"I don't have much in my wallet, Princess," Kyoko whispered, plucking up a green gowned lady with short orange hair and a joyful expression. "So I can only invite one of you." Setting the figurine in her basket, something on her right side caught her eye. It was a piece of paper below the shelf– crumpled slightly and laying on the cold, speckled linoleum.

_'This is...'_ Kyoko thought, glaring down at the green and purplish banknote. On its surface, a concerned man stared back at her knowingly. '_Congratulations on finding me,'_ he seemed to say. '_I will fold my feelings and reward you with the 1000 amount on my shoulder.'_

"WAH–" She gasped, snatching the banknote off the ground and holding it up to the light. Glancing through its paper thin body, she finally accepted that it was genuine. "But is it really okay to take this?" She asked herself aloud, standing up with her handbasket and wandering close to the checkout counter.

"Eh... Excuse me," Kyoko began, summoning an idle cashier. "I found this. On the ground." She produced the banknote from her folded palm– flashing it before the young man.

"Oh, is that so?" He asked, smiling at her. "You'll have to pay for that, then, since everything here is 100. But don't worry, you get to keep the change."

"Eh?...!"

"Just kidding. Take it."

"Right! ...Good one!" She forced a cracked smile. '_So much so, that my brain was about to explode from the paradox.'_

"And don't forget," He said in a mischievous manner. "You can buy 10 more items with that here... Not that I'm trying to make you feel obligated to spend or anything..."

"That's impossible. There's sales tax." Kyoko halted his effort to tease her. '_What is this guy thinking? It's not wise to spend so much money in such a cheap store...'_

Walking back by the shelf of fairy princesses, she resisted her urge to get nine more figurines. Despite her efforts, though, she found her body inching closer and closer to the shelf all by itself– all until her elbow smacked into the middle shelf.

"Eyah!" She leapt, staring at the offender. Once again, the doe-eyed princesses casted their spell, begging her: _'One more won't hurt. Please? Just one more? Princesses like sticking together.'_

"You're right," Kyoko congregated with the fairy princesses. "Belina will get lonely all by herself..." (She had already named the green gowned princess in her basket.) Reaching for one more figurine, Kyoko chose a purple gowned lady with long black hair and a serious expression.

Setting the figurine in her basket, she skipped off down the cosmetic and accessory aisle. '_I still have enough money left for about eight more items. I should be able to splurge a little more. The banknote was a lucky gift, after all. Right?'_

Kyoko stopped, gawking at the shelf wall before her. Packages of cardboard backed lipsticks and eyeliners hung in abundance, shimmering with their glossy and hi-quality packaging. '_Name brand products?...!'_ She trembled in disbelief. '_In this store? How can that be possible? I know... it must've been overstock.'_

"Today, fortune smiles upon me," Kyoko muttered to herself, leaning in close to chose a package. _For lipstick... 'Oh, that color is named Rosa Rosa! ... But it's such a bright pink, I would feel self-concious wearing it.' _Choosing a more subdued pink named Midnight Pumpkin (for why a pink would be named pumpkin, she had no idea), she continued on her search for more goods.

Two makeup packages rattled pleasingly in her basket, along with the two ceramic princesses. Grabbing her usual soaps and toiletries, she headed off for the hardware and craft aisle and threw a roll of floral wire into her basket. Picking up a package of mini pliers, her eyes shimmered as she examined their soft spongey handles. "They're mini. Really tiny..." She observed, melting from their cuteness. Behind her, the sound of a box being ripped open stirred her to look.

"We got mini screwdriver sets in, too. If you're interested," A familiar young man informed her, holding his box cutter down as he ran his hand through his short black hair.

_'It's the guy who wants me to completely spend my treasure.' _Kyoko realized, recognizing him as the cashier she had previously spoken with. "Aren't they just jeweler's screwdrivers, then?" She inquired. _'I already have enough of those.'_

"No, they're literally mini screwdrivers. See?" He said, opening the cardboard box and handing her a clear plastic case. "The handles are short but the heads are standard size. Don't they look kind of pudgy that way?"

"Pudgy screwdrivers..." Kyoko smiled, nearly laughing at the fact. "I'll take them. I did come here for some, anyway..." Convinced by his sales pitch, she placed them into her basket. Walking away, the young man straightened his stack of cardboard boxes and threw his box cutter into his green shop apron. Swiftly moving past her, he relocated to the home goods aisle several shelves away.

_'That's where I was going next...'_ Kyoko froze, uncertain of whether to continue on her path. _'He won't think I'm following him if I still go there, right?'_ Shaking off her paranoid thoughts, she continued as she was.

Picking up a glass star shaped candy dish, Kyoko carefully felt all its points before placing it back on the shelf. _'Oh. They also still have all those rose colored heart glasses,_' she thought, standing back to stare at the glassware selection. Once again, the ripping sound of a cardboard boxed compelled her to look.

"Hey, over here. We got candy dishes in that look like glass slippers," the familiar young man beckoned her over. Lifting a lump of brown paper out from the top stacked box, he carefully unwrapped it to reveal a glass shoe. "It looks like Cinderella's glass slipper, doesn't it?" He asked, handing the dish to her.

"It does, it does!" She cried in delirious joy, holding it up to the light to examine its perfectly shaped heel and form. _'He sure knows his stock! What an efficient employee.'_

"I'm glad you like it." The young man smiled, leaning over the tower of boxes and gazing at her for awhile.

"Eheh..." She laughed nervously. _'Why is he looking at me like that? ...Does he want me to buy more?'_

"Hey, Takahashi!" A loud voice called, followed by a squatty young man. "I saw your basketball coach up by the front. You still haven't gotten part time permission from the school yet, right?"

"Oh sh–" The young man scrambled, abandoning his stack of boxes and darting off into the nearby back room.

Bewildered by what had just transpired before her, Kyoko went on with the rest of her shopping. After making her final selection– a set of baskets for organizing craft goods– she headed up to the checkout line.

Waiting in line patiently while eyeballing all the cute cell phone charms below the count, Kyoko jumped when a blur whooshed past her. Vaulting over the nearby counter with superhuman speed, the line started moving again as the blur revealed himself. "This way, please." The familiar young man known as Takahashi waived at her.

Ringing up her items while pounding the register's keyboard, he handed her a faded receipt and a black pen. "I'll need you signature," he told her.

"Huh? Why? I'm not using a bank card..." She looked at the receipt dubiously. _'And didn't he just pull this out from underneath the counter?...'_

"It's a new policy. For banknotes in the amount of 1000 or over."

"I've never heard of such a weird rule..."

"Rules are rules. Don't get me in trouble, please."

Obliging his odd request, Kyoko took the pen and scribbled her name down on the receipt, looking up at him oddly as he bagged her goods. "Thank you. Have a nice day." He smiled and bowed at her, handing them to her.

"Yes, you too." She took the bags and headed out the whirring front automatic door.

Staring after her, a pleased smirk filled the young man's face. Folding up the signed receipt, he kissed it. _'If I outright asked you for an autograph... You might get scared and never come back, right?'_ He thought._ 'Well this is good enough... I'll be silently cheering you on from afar. Hurry up and become an even bigger star, Kyoko.'_

"Um, Takahashi," a thin employee warbled, staring down at the ground as he walked. "That 1000 note I lost. Have you seen it yet?"

"Nope."


	2. Chapter 2: Takahashi Encore

Some of you expressed interest in Takahashi, so this chapter focuses on him. Just to clear up some possible confusion, Takahashi is his last name. His best friend refers to him by his first name while his team and work mates refer to him by his last name. Okie doke.

* * *

"Because satisfying you is useless," the girl murmured, placing a hand over her horrendous scar. Tilting her head away, her pitch black bangs split apart over her eyes. "So I've lived this certain way all these years... I've been the clouds over the moon... scattering the beautiful lightness with this darkness, making its reemergence seem twice brighter. Tch... Well." The girl stopped, sliding out a small, metal pipe from her lacy black sleeve.

"Of course you're still not satisfied," the girl went on, walking closer.

"Mio," the woman gasped harshly, backing away. Scornfully she gazed at her daughter, with widened eyes full of terror. Bumping into the great room's polished accent table, her hand crawled and trembled across its top. Inching across in the dark, her hand reached for a large, crystal vase.

"Sister deserves this... Misao deserves this and everything to come. And Mizuki..." the terrifying girl continued. "She deserves to know what you've been hiding."

"You stay away from me!" the woman shrilled, picking up the vase and crashing it down before her approaching daughter. The propane from the kitchen had already spread throughout the household; it was enough to make the woman woozy and her aim clumsy. With lightening quick reflexes, Mio had stepped back, avoiding the shards at her feet.

"With this blackness in my heart, I'll make things as they should. It's only right... misfortunes are there to make fortunes seem sweeter, after all." Mio said with an odd softness; a strangled love for her cousin Mizuki. Slowly, Mio revealed the pipe hidden in her sleeve to be a fireplace lighter. "What is that what they say? ... 'If your house burns down, you own a better view of the rising moon.' I think I agree with this very much, mother."

"Mio–" the woman screamed.

"Big brother! You shouldn't sit so close to the TV screen–" a little girl's voice interrupted the program, turning on the living room's light, "–especially in the dark."

"Tomoko!" Takahashi yelled angrily, pulling away from the TV screen. "Sit down and be quiet!"

"Oh. Is your precious 'Demon Princess Mio' on TV again? Trying to kiss her through the glass?" Tomoko taunted playfully, pursing her tiny lips and making smooching noises at her brother.

"Idiot! This is a plasma TV!" he raved, reaching for the TV remote and hitting up the volume.

"Mio, no–" a young woman cried out from its speakers, along with a loud crashing noise. "I know you're doing this–"

"–What does that have to do with anything?" Tomoko argued with her brother, raising her childish voice over the volume. "Plasma screens are made out of glass!"

"No they aren't." He remained captivated by the television program.

"Yes they are!" The little girl waived her arms.

"No, they're clearly... something else. Plastic, ok?" He wanted his little sister to shut up, but he also wanted to be right.

"Hmph! You're wrong!" She picked up the remote control and slapped it against her butt– noisily disrespecting him and his program.

"YOU'RE MAKING ME MISS THE BEST PART," he exploded.

"Tsk tsk. Watching TV dramas all day," she chided, "What are you, a house wife?"

Jumping to his feet, he ignored her frightened shrieks and picked her up– tossing her out of the room.

"Susumu Takahashi is a drama nerd!" she yelled indignantly– loud enough for everyone in the apartment complex to hear. "And a child abuser!"

"SHUT UP–"

* * *

Takahashi stopped before his school gate, gazing up at the main building's towering, glass curtain wall.

_Kyoko... _He remained lost in his thoughts, still enthralled by last night's episode of Dark Moon. _Whenever I see you gushing over cute things at the shop, you're so different from how you are on TV. It's almost hard to believe you're the same person... Even if it's only from so far away, I want to keep watching you. _

_Who are you? To be the dark and tortured Mio onscreen... yet to be so starry-eyed and simple in person._

_You have... many facets, probably stemming from many experiences..._

"Oh, Susumu!" a boy yelled obnoxiously, prancing up to the gate. "Look what I did over break!" He energetically pointed at his shockingly bleached blond head of hair.

"What the..." Takahashi grimaced, feeling that despite it's strangeness, the color somehow suited his sprightly friend. "Hibiki. What the hell did you do to your hair?" _Does our school even allow such a thing?_ he pondered.

"You know– this school is heavy on sports, so there's twice as many boys as girls, right? That means the competition is tough. You have to keep up your outer game," Hibiki continued, jogging in place. "So, anyways... The Fuwa! Fuwa Sho is really big right now. All the girls are talking about that blond hair, you know? So–"

"–The Fuwa Fuwa Show?" Takahashi wondered aloud, puzzled by Hibiki's frenzied speech. "That baked goods cooking show that comes on at 3 AM? After the Tokyo Crazy Paradise re-runs..." Takahashi scratched his head, uncertain if any of the show's hosts fit such a description.

"HAVE YOU BEEN STATIONED ON JUPITER?" Hibiki went ballistic. "I'm talking about the highly popular Fuwa Sho, not some late night cooking show!"

"Tch. It's an easy mistake to make... Don't get so upset," Takahashi rubbed his head in aloof embarrassment. "That's why I was asking you."

"You watch a lot of TV, so there's no way you haven't noticed him. You know... that guy? The popular rockstar who kept charting first on the Oricon?" Hibiki went on, trying to stir the memory of his clueless friend. "All the girls are crazy about him right now?"

"Eh..." Takahashi shook his head. "I don't keep up with idol stuff. You'll have to try harder... Has he sung any drama openings yet?"

"You and your dramas." Hibiki exhaled and shrugged. "Ok, I know something. He has those weird, gothic facial cream commercials... With the hot zombie lady? Actually, all his stuff has hot monster girls in them..."

"Uh... Oh yeah, that guy!" Takahashi instantly remembered, pounding his fist into his palm. _One of his music videos starred Kyoko,_ he recalled, that being the only reason why he remembered Fuwa. "But those commercials are very flashy and surreal. I always forget what they're even selling... They should focus on marketing the product more."

"There's Takahashi at work again, already figuring out how to scheme another success! Not that Fuwa needs it," Hibiki chortled. "Anyways, look. You can call me a faker if you want, but I got the guy's hairstyle... to attract the _ladies_. A man has to live... and you definitely need love to live."

"You're really serious about this, aren't you? Well... If you're looking for my opinion on your hairdo, I think you look sharp," Takahashi admitted, slinging his bag up over his shoulder and walking past the school gate. "But don't forget that appearances are only a small portion of a man's attractiveness. Other important factors are social position, income, property holdings, graduation level, and... Well. There's other factors, but I don't really know those." _There's only so much I can learn about love and dating from science journals,_ Takahashi thought.

"But you should know! You should even be a pro by now," Hibiki complained. "Did you... really turn down three love confessions last week?"

"I did..."

"Geez! Such a waste. And you don't even have a girlfriend yet! Aren't you lonely?"

"Not as lonely as you'd be on the weekend, if your best friend suddenly had a reason to ditch you," Takahashi announced. "I know you're actually glad. Don't worry, I won't abandon you."

"Gah! I don't need THAT kind of pity!" Hibiki blasted, angrily jumping up and down. "If you want a girlfriend, don't let me stop you!"

"Actually, I don't care," Takahashi said, gazing ahead past the mob of girls gathered in the front school yard. They all liked standing in the same place every day– loudly asserting their presence. It was seriously predictable.

"Huh? Why? You have, any problems, or say– really high standards or something?"

"Probably... These girls. They're pretty to look at, but..." Takahashi turned from them, smiling ruefully at Hibiki. "-there's not much else to them, huh?"

"So cruel! Such a cold guy," his friend complained, but he couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

"These... are also the team's stats and profiles," Takahashi said, handing his gathered teammates a stack of printed computer paper. "Notice their offense. I've also compiled a list of their preferred plays. The spreadsheets are simpler this time around... One page each." He handed them another stack to share.

"You... can't be human," a brown hair boy murmured, gazing at the sheets in his hands. "Look at all these hexagonal graphs... You've gone too far."

"Are we actually in a video game? These are like all their attacks," the rest of the teammates chattered and joked, squeaking their sneakers on the gym's hardwood floor. "...No kidding."

"We'll be able to take first place at the regionals again..."

"Scary..."

"Nice work," another young man patted him on the back; it was Watanabe, the team captain. "Just what we'd expect from The Tactical Monster Takahashi."

"Yeah! Our cold-blooded strategist!" Everyone agreed with the comment.

"Do you guys really have to call me a monster?" Takahashi frowned. "Even the cold-blooded part is a bit harsh..."

"It can't be helped. It's just how you are," Hibiki chirped, tucking his papers under the stretchy band of his basketball shorts.

"Hey, don't stick those in your pants," Takahashi protested.

"What, you want them back now?"

"I don't even want to touch them now!"

"Fear not, Takahashi. Trust that your battle plans are _safe_ in Hibiki's pants." Watanabe held up his hands to intensify the statement.

Everyone laughed and poured into the boy's locker room– all of them eager to go home. Takahashi, however, stayed behind. Stalking across the floor, he threw a stray basketball into the nearby ball cart.

"...Leaving me to clean up again?" he complained lightly, picking up an empty water bottle and crumpling it in his hand. "You guys are just like Tomoko..."

"Who's... Tomoko?" a girl suddenly asked from behind him.

Startled, he whipped around. He hadn't even noticed anyone sneak up on him.

"Oh, sorry... I," the girl began, tucking her arms behind her back. She swayed lightly and stubbed the toe of her shoes against the floor to appear nervous.

Takahashi stared at her, observing her mannerisms and body language. _Absence of her school sweater, shirt is open down to the third button, and her socks are stretched up mid-thigh,_ Takahashi thought. _And all those unnatural movements... This girl is trouble._

"Please read and consider my feelings!" the girl jolted her hands out, formally holding him a white envelope with a rectangular mass of red heart stickers on it.

"I'm flattered by this... But I'm too young to date," Takahashi said, staring down at it without moving. He knew it was the best excuse to use in this case.

"But–"

"–And I'm too young to go to those kinds of concerts," he added. "My parents wouldn't approve. I'm sorry."

The girl stood flabbergasted. Curious, she inspected her envelope to see if it had already been opened. Seeing as it was still sealed, she came to the conclusion that her plan must've been compromised by her best friend.

"That traitor..." she murmured. Biting her lip, an angry glare flashed in her eyes as she stormed off and out of the gym.

Takahashi sighed relief as the door slammed shut. _The kind of girl who forces expensive gifts on you..._ he thought._ The kind of girl who takes you to a 'live' and tries to get you drunk..._

It was weird, but he had actually seen such a thing before.

_She realized that her tickets were showing through the envelope, so she tried to cover them up with a crap ton of stickers..._ _It worked fairly well, but it was suspicious. Also, the stickers formed a 6 x 14 cm rectangle– the standard size of box office tickets in the Roppongi district.__  
_

"Phew," Takahashi exhaled. _Hopefully the quarrel with her best friend will keep her busy now..._

Pushing the ball cart into the equipment room, he locked up and went to drop the keys off at the coach's office. Standing in the office doorway, he realized that he had yet to get permission for his part time job at the one coin shop.

Thinking there silently for a few moments, he turned away from his coach, who was seated at his desk and reading a paper. Leaning on the doorway, Takahashi instead stared intently at the wall calendar. This alone got the gruff old man's attention.

"Hm? What is it?" the coach inquired, curious by the boy's behavior.

"Oh. Nothing. Just checking the weekly schedule," Takahashi remarked, raising his eyebrows while furrowing them.

"Is something going on? You look troubled," the old man shifted, folding up his newspaper. _It's unsettling to see that kind of expression on this boy,_ the coach thought.

"If... I took on a part time job," Takahashi said suddenly, gazing sadly into the old man's eyes. "Do you think it would trouble the team?"

Disturbed by the boy's sudden melancholy, the coach grunted and lowered his arms.

"Hm... What do you need a job for?"

"I just... need the money," Takahashi lingered his voice silently, trembling his pitch downward on the word 'money'. He wasn't lying, but he was definitely dramatizing the situation.

"Hm... As long as you don't overwork yourself, it should be fine," the coach softened a bit, pulling a form out from his desk drawer and signing it. "When you get your job, have your manager fill out this section."

"Thank you," Takahashi bowed gratefully. _For bending to my whim,_ he thought, leaving out of the coach's office and down the melancholy expression had vanished instantly– instead replaced by his usual, bored gaze.

However, his imitation of sincerity left him feeling horrible.

_I guess I really am cold-blooded... _

* * *

Leaning on the counter, Takahashi restlessly gazed out the store's automatic sliding doors.

"Hah, these are..." his short workmate snickered, snatching a pair of glasses off the nearby sunglasses tower. Dawdling around the checkout counters, he snuck up and forced them on Takahashi's face.

"W-ha?" Takahashi emitted, confused by the square, thin-rimmed spectacles perched atop his nose.

"Yamada, come see this," the offender called off into the distance. "Hurry!"

Emerging from the far end of the aisles, a tall and thin young man appeared– carrying a display box in his hands.

"Huh, Mochizuki? What is it–" he said, cutting himself off when he finally looked at Takahashi. The youth fought hard to suppress the grin overtaking his face.

Mochizuki, however, let out an amused roar of laughter.

"You two. What's so funny?" Takahashi finally asked, somewhat smiling and mostly frowning at the fun his colleagues were having with him.

"Glasses seriously suit you," Yamada finally admitted, shaking away his grin and setting down the display box on the counter.

Standing up straight, Takahashi strolled over to the sunglasses tower and looked into its mirror. Turning up his face, he realized that Yamada was right; the frames made his usually bored face look intellectual.

"Hey... Push you glasses up in the middle," Mochizuki insisted and mimed. "With an open hand. Like this."

Takahashi copied his workmate, only he took it further– keeping his movement and face stern as he did it. Both his workmates sputtered and chortled.

"You seriously need glasses," Yamada managed out.

"Impossible," Takahashi answered, pulling them off and placing them back on the rack. "My eyesight is fine."

"Then get those," Mochizuki instructed. "They're clear lens glasses."

The automatic door behind them whirred, causing Takahashi to snap to attention. Someone had walked in– a girl with short bleached hair and a spaced-out expression. It was Kyoko on her usual Thursday shopping trip.

With a quickened heart rate, Takahashi hurried off to the back in preparation.

"It's that crazy girl," Mochizuki observed, turning back to his re-stocking of the sunglasses tower. "The one who talks to herself in strange voices... Have you noticed anything else about her?"

"Hmm," Yamada thought aloud, folding out the counter display box's backdrop. "Not really. She's somewhat plain, but... Ah. Takahashi gets skittish when she shows up... It's seriously scary."

"My thoughts exactly."

Through a gap in the shelf, Takahashi watched as Kyoko crouched down in the toy aisle. She picked up a toy monster truck and stared at its undercarriage.

"Hmm... would this hubcap unscrew?" she asked herself quietly, spinning the truck wheel a couple times and holding it up to observe. "A... golden canopy... With red velvet?... That could work." She held the truck up for a few more seconds.

Then she placed it back on the shelf .

"No, that wouldn't be suitable," she murmured darkly. "It needs a... basket weave. I can implement a bead-capped marble on the top... as for a border design..."

_She's building something again!_ Takahashi perceived in frightened amazement– his mouth agape as he watched.

Standing up, Kyoko looked around awhile more before stopping, captivated by something else that had caught her attention. Hung down from the wall before her was an unwrapped badminton set– something that an impatient child had torn into.

Taking the cheap, plastic racket in hand, Kyoko's fingers poked through its netted strings. With a dark aura suddenly looming over her shoulders, a pensive scowl settled on her lips. And her eyes, filled with consternation, narrowed– remaining focused throughout the moments on a bitter and far away thought.

_At times like this, I... can never read her,_ Takahashi suddenly realized. All his confidence vanquished as he realized that he was staring at an unknown creature.

_I just know... your likes: cute things with magical qualities,_ he understood, recalling all the times Kyoko had squealed over gorgeous porcelain jewelry boxes and light-up magic wands. _But the truth is... I can't figure out much else about you. _

_All your depth is contained... by that plain expression you wear._

Bending down to pick up a feathered foam ball, Kyoko held it as she glanced around. Certain that the coast was clear, she slipped the shuttle between her fingers, tossing it up into the air and letting it loose like a bird. Holding her breath, she raised her racket up high, assumed a perfect posture– and swept the shuttle, blasting it off into the unknown.

It landed five aisles over, accompanied by the sound of breaking glass. Kyoko dropped the racket and held her face– mortified and silently panicking.

_That move just now..._ Takahashi thought, his mouth still wide open in shock. _I've seen this before... Wasn't it?_

Desperately racking his brain, only moments later did he recall where he had seen it before. In fact, he had seen it all the time TV.

_That's right... During the Bo's Mini Sports Corner on that popular variety show... Yappa Kimagure Rock..._ he stopped, grasping the edge of the shelf with intense disbelief. _That move is Bo the Chicken's... Famous Final Smash...!_

Bo's demonstrated strength and skill in billiard sports, ping pong, and even arm wrestling (old fogey, ryokan resort games) further increased the mascot's popularity– and it even landed the chicken it's own feature on the program. Famous guests would often come onto the show _just_ for the sake of competing with the mystery chicken. And only rarely did they win.

_Then this also means..._ Takahashi finally understood, his mind overwhelmed and crushed by the revelation. _Mio is also... _

_Bo the Chicken._

He vision blurred and he collapsed, unable to comprehend Kyoko's existence any further. He knocked over a stack of cardboard boxes in the process.

Hearing the disturbance, Kyoko rushed around the corner, gasping in terror when she saw him raise himself off the floor.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly, pushing the boxes out of the way. She was concerned yet reserved, and the ultra polite tone of her voice told him that she didn't remember him at all.

"I'm fine, I was just careless," he said, standing up and straightening his shop apron. "Don't worry, no harm done."

"Thank goodness," she said, re-stacking some of the boxes for him. "That sounded painful."

"You're too kind," he said, rushing to stop her. "You don't have to do that."

"Oh... right," Kyoko laughed nervously. It appeared she was still feeling guilty about destroying the nameless glass object five aisles over.

A thought crossed Takahashi's mind; another scheme for getting to know her. _If I do this, then... _He could scrap the previous plans he had arranged.

"You're Bo the Chicken, aren't you?" He pointed out suddenly.

"Huh?" Kyoko's face froze in place. Her eyes shrunk to the size of beads and her mouth opened voicelessly. She was clearly on the verge of shrieking in terror.

"I–I'm a big Bo the Chicken fan, you see," Takahashi blurted out, opening a box and quickly restocking the shelf to distract her. "Bo is very manly... My role model, even!"

"I think you're... mistaken about me," Kyoko murmured, glancing down at the ground uncomfortably. Her vague response and inability to look up explained that she was obviously lying.

"No need to be ashamed. I also... really like your Mio," Takahashi continued, growing nervous when her expression changed for the worse. "Your Mio is the best. In all of Dark Moon–"

He was cut short by a tight feeling around his neck. Unexplainably, a dark aura was once again wafting from Kyoko's back. Though he couldn't see anything, he could certainly feel it– something malevolent choking him and weighing him down.

Despite all this, however, Kyoko kept up a brilliant, sparkling and overly happy smile.

_Amazing,_ he panicked, overwhelmed by Kyoko's demon force. _She's crushing me with that fake 'Enchantress Smile'...!_

"You won't... tell anyone about Bo... and I... right?" Kyoko asked with a saccharin sweetness, her empty eyes glistening like a snake's. "_Right? _

...Right?

...**Right**?"

Her words echoed through a void in time and space.

"Your secret... is safe," he managed out, fearing for his life. In truth, he was initially planning on blackmailing her into going out for a cup coffee with him. Just once. (Since he finally understood why Bo's actor was never listed in YKR's credits. It was most likely to keep up Kyoko's decorum as Mio's actor.) But now– even that plan was beyond his power.

"Thank you very much," Kyoko responded politely, causing the tight grip around his neck to loosen. Contemplating something, she then glanced around nervously, until her eyes drifted to the ceiling– which she stared at for a long time.

"R...right." Takahashi decided to break the silence, still rubbing his neck from the supernatural pressure. He looked up at the ceiling as well– not sure what she was even staring at.

"Huh..." Kyoko spoke at last, startled by an invisible phantom. "..."

Suddenly she shrieked, holding her head. "Uwa?...!"

_Did she just remember something?...!_ Takahashi leapt in surprise.

"You... you're... a... fan," Kyoko pointed at him. "A Kyoko fan?"

"Yes." Takahashi nodded. "You could definitely say that..."

"Ye... Yessssssss!" Kyoko shrilled and clenched her fists, melting to the sound of crying trumpets in her head. She then – humming the French anthem, La Marseillaise– dashed out the shop's whirring automatic doors and into the street, sparkling all the way. She disappeared into the distance.

Takahashi was left, wordless, uncertain if he had ever truly met her... or if it was all just a TV drama.


	3. Chapter 3: Shojo Probability

"And then... and then," Kyoko chirped, pointing at the ceiling as she recalled her encounter at the one coin shop. "And then I left..."

_Singing a musical score, in fact, _she thought._ But that detail might be better left unsaid..._

Kanae's face contorted and darkened like the craggy overhang of a cliff. Sinking her shoulders and hunching, she landed her butt on the womens locker room bench. Her intense worry has instantly aged her smile at least 50 years.

"Moko? What's wrong?" Kyoko hovered over her dark-haired friend, calling her pet name. "...Moko?"

"Just now. You told me that story so happily... That story about meeting your first real fan. I was inclined to think that it was something good, but..." Kanae trailed, her sharp eyes narrowing and her lips downturning. "But didn't he discover your secret TV role? ...Didn't you once desperately plead to me and the entire staff at YKR to keep Bo a secret?"_ I remember it clearly,_ she recalled.

_...Because you had pleaded as if your life depended on it!_

"That's... that's right," Kyoko smiled, attempting to dispel the sudden worry. "But my fan is just an ordinary high school student. A boy working at a Daisho One Coin Shop." She even felt a sacred kinship with the boy– as she herself had once been a simple wage earner.

_Though,_ she considered, _maybe I still am..._

"You're just a high school student yourself," Kanae contemplated. "Never underestimate someone just because of his age. You never know what connections he may have."

"But he promised to keep it a secret..." Kyoko sank to the floor, clenching her knees and becoming depressed by the familiar ache of betrayal. "...What am I supposed to do?"

"Easy," Kanae decided, sitting up from the bench and regaining her cool, youthful composure. "Keep him away... from whatever it is that you're protecting..."

* * *

"Princess Belina and Melise," Kyoko uttered, gazing up at the beautiful fairies. "Are you lonely for more courtiers?"

The two porcelain figures stood regally on the bookshelf before her, gazing down at Kyoko with doe-eyed expressions, though Melise had her usual solemn and downturned mouth.

With a careful arm, the pretending girl reached up and pulled her first Ren prototype doll from the shelf's corner, standing him nearer to the princesses, but at a socially acceptable distance. (About 10 centimeters. She checked this carefully. Fairies had strict intimacy codes.)

"Still lonely, isn't it... Should I make more companions?" Kyoko considered, glancing around her room for more options.

Surprisingly, her eyes sought Sho's doll laying below the leg of her low work table. (Left there carelessly after an intense session of rehearsing her Natsu bully role a few nights back.) Reaching for the rockstar's likeness, she stopped, wondering what good he would even serve in a royal court– he, a man who deceived and found fame while riding off the backs of others.

With a delirious smile, she instantly envisioned fashioning him in a silly jester suit. Fuwa Sho– with puffy sleeves and a floppy hat.

"That's right! Only good for singing and dancing, are you?" she verbally abused the doll, picking it up and shaking it in her fist. "You'll make merry in the court... Entertaining the crown heirs and the nobility as... THE FOOL."

Tilting back her head, she let out a ominous whoop of laughter– a sinister cry of joy which pierced all the way downstairs to the food prep counter of Daruma-ya: the family owned restaurant where she worked and lodged.

Sliding a ceramic lid onto a heavy bowl of chopped vegetables, Taisho turned to his wife and frowned sternly.

"Doesn't she have somewhere to be?..." he asked gruffly, only to be answered by his wife's amused, knowing gaze. She left the room, navigating the dark hall to Kyoko's bedroom door.

"Kyoko?" she asked, knocking softly. "It's late. Won't you be late for school?"

There was a long silence from within.

"...School?" Kyoko finally echoed. Despite her distraction with court life, she still had her book bag to pack.

There wasn't much in the girl's room, but somehow she managed to make it sound as if she were knocking over rows and columns of filing cabinets.

"NOOOOOOoooo!" she bellowed intensely, mortified by her failure. "I'll get my bike– my lunchbox– I'll be right out–"

"I'll do those first two things for you." The woman smiled uneasily, pulling away from the door. "But please be careful as you get ready."

"YES."

* * *

Stopping before the crowded crosswalk, Takahashi stood, a hand in his pocket and his book bag slung over his shoulder. Not wanting to open his mouth in such a crowd, he breathed deeply and suppressed a yawn. He had woken up and set out for school a whole hour early, hoping to get a little practice in at the gym.

But waking up early wasn't an easy task. Thoughts about Kyoko tripled in his mind during the night, leaving him restless and troubled.

_Since then, I've been pondering if the world I live in is really that different from hers. Day to day, I can see her, brush my hand against hers, speak with her... even if she doesn't notice me,_ he recalled, remembering his past encounters with Kyoko at the one coin shop.

_All of these things give me the illusion of being close to her_, _but it's just that. _An illusion.

_She actually lives on the other side of my TV..._

As the crosswalk lights flashed, he poured across the street among the crowd, walking slowly to keep grounded in all the confusion. Overhead, the orange crosswalk speakers chirped and blurted like cuckoo birds– urging everyone across with their stupid call.

Making it to the other side of the street, Takahashi stopped. The crowd grew sparse around him as they hurried to their destinations, but something tugged at him to stay. One last restless worry lingered in his mind.

_...What if she doesn't come back? What if I chased her away from the store?_

The thought sank into his gut as it had been for the past few days. Continually he had this doubt– worrying if his decision to confront Kyoko about her TV personas was such a smart move after all.

Though he was notorious for always making calculated and cold decisions, he considered that this may have been the first time he'd ever made one out of confused, ignorant passion.

The loud whir of a bicycle shrilled behind, whipping up the air and frightening him into jumping aside.

He leapt, but into the bicyclist's path, causing her to swerve. Over her handlebars she flew, her bike toppling over and her body rolling into the street– her shoes scuffling around as her plaid skirt flopping.

Takahashi stood stunned for a millisecond. The people around him stopped and stared as well, startled by the crash.

"Are you alright–" Takahashi hurried, kneeling beside the bicyclist.

"Ye-yeah," she stuttered with a dying breath, weakly turning over and wincing. "Forgive me... for damaging my body... But I can still act... Hand me that... magic bald cap and powder brush." It seemed the impact had knocked her brain loose.

Takahashi froze beside her, his mouth agape upon realizing who it was.

_The Gods. They heard me,_ he realized, staring into Kyoko's dazed eyes.

"Mogami... No– forgive me. It's my fault–" Takahashi answered quickly, taking off his school blazer and draping it around her thighs. "We need to get you out of the street... This is a terrible way to meet again."

Noticing a change in elevation, Kyoko snapped to attention. Gulping, a bewildered expression settled on her face as she discovered herself being carried off by the young man.

Takahashi wondered if he was being too offensive with the way he was holding her; but he had draped his blazer as a barrier between her thighs and his hands for this very reason.

"Wait. I'm sorry, but," Kyoko spoke simply, but apologetically. "...who are you again?"

Her distant, uncomfortable words shattered his pride and stung at his eyes. He looked up and blinked to clear away his consternation.

"I don't... think I ever gave you my name," he managed out, devastated by the fact that she still didn't recognize him. "It's Takahashi. Susumu... We should take you to a clinic." He knew he would die of embarrassment if he had to reiterate to her how they had met.

"No! I'm alright! I'll patch everything up at the nurse's office– I just need to get to school!" she answered, her body stiffening in his arms as she fought back an inhospitable frown. She still couldn't place where she knew this strange young man from.

_This is incredibly awkward! _she panicked, silently allowing him to carry her away from the crowded crosswalk. _I know that I know him from somewhere... But I don't know where..._

_Ah! I'm just confusing myself further!_

"Is your school nearby?" Takahashi inquired.

"Yes. One block away–" she answered, suddenly feeling that she had forsaken some important advice. _Wait a minute..._ she tried to remember it.

"Your things," a pretty young office lady said, following behind them with the bike and book bags.

"Thank you. But isn't it too much trouble?" Takahashi asked her, leading them through the crowd.

"No, not at all!" The woman smiled at him. "Her school is nearby, right?"

"I think I can walk now," Kyoko declared, sweating nervously and eager to escape the spectacle which she had created. Passerbys stopped to stare at the wounded girl and her suspiciously cheerful bicycle entourage.

"Right. We're out of the way, it should be safe now," Takahashi agreed with Kyoko. "But are you sure?"

"Of course! You'll strain your shoulders if you overdo it–"

"Don't worry about me. Are you in pain? Do you want to call someone?"

"I–" Kyoko stopped, contemplating her phone contacts. Moko was currently in the middle of filming a drama. The owners of Daruma–ya would be unable to assist since they didn't have a car (and she didn't wish to trouble them).

She would subsequently be too embarrassed to call anyone at LME, considering that she had landed herself in this trivial predicament by riding like a jerk.

_Like a typical bicyclist plowing over pedestrians!_ she concluded shamefully. _I'm the scourge of the streets!_

"No... I'm fine." She frowned, gazing up at the boy's anxious face. His earnest concern for her was starting to disturb her. "You can set me down now, please."

Without any argument, he carefully set her on the sidewalk, allowing his school blazer to drop to her feet.

She quickly picked it up, bowing in his direction at the same time.

"Thank you," she said, cordially handing it back to him. "I'm sorry again for causing so much trouble."

"Uah–It wasn't any trouble," he stammered. "In fact, I... well... the crashing part was bad– but I was actually glad to meet you again. I guess this makes me a rabid fan..."

Kyoko's face went blank as she finally recalled who he was.

"AH. You're... The Kyoko fan," she exclaimed, pointing at him ominously. At that moment, she finally remembered the important advice which she had forgotten:

**Keep him away... from whatever it is that you're protecting...**

_Moko, I was careless! _Kyoko gazed at the sky, comprehending the enemy fire which she was now under.

_This boy! He's gone past my first line of defense... The first line guarding Bo's important secret– _

_He now knows where my school is...!_

"My SANCTUARY," she blasted, turning away and grasping her face in terror. _–Has been compromised...!_ she understood,

_This is my divine punishment for violating simple road etiquette!_

"I'll take that now... thank you for your time," Takahashi said, bowing and taking their things from the office lady.

"See you!" She left.

"What were you saying just now?" he asked Kyoko, glancing suspiciously at a business card which had been slipped into his shirt pocket.

"I'll take my bike," she answered, reaching for it, "and my bag! Thank you so very much!"

"Wait, you attend TML High, right?" he asked, handing just her book bag back. "I know where it is. I'll walk you there. I mean your bike..."

"But you're busy and–"

"I have plenty of time," he insisted, not letting go of her bike. _This... You can't deny this favor_, he thought intensely, gazing at her._ After all..._

_You forgot who I even was!_

"Geh," she choked, overpowered by his determined glare.

* * *

"What took you so long?" Hibiki complained. "The gate almost closed on you... It almost killed you! Worst of all, you almost go locked out of school... You have some explaining to do."

Slowly, the automatic school gate groaned shut behind them. It was actually harmless.

"I had plenty of clearance," Takahashi said, waiving his hand to dismiss the notion. "And I just took a detour this morning..."

_I successfully walked Kyoko to school,_ he remembered._ Though she ditched me as soon as we got there..._

"A detour, hm?" Hibiki fidgeted. Takahashi observed him carefully.

"So why did you wait up for me?"

"That? Well... I have something super important to ask of you!" Hibiki clasped his hands together, slinking low as if praying for his friend to perform some miracle.

"What is it now?" Takahashi asked wearily.

"I met this girl the other day, ok?" Hibiki rushed excitedly, sprinting ahead but then running back again, "And I asked her for a date. She agreed! But then she wanted me to bring four guys to meet her four friends– so we can get together and have a group date, you know–"

"Hey you two! Get to class!" a disciplinary teacher shouted from behind, pulling his keycard from the gate's control panel.

"Group date? What about it?" Takahashi quickened his pace, the both of them hurrying inside the school's entrance hall.

"Well I need three guys, right? But I'm short one person! So I really really need you to come along with–"

"–No, that's ok."

"I'm not offering you, I'm begging you!" Hibiki cried, the both of them stopping at the bench between their lockers. "As a favor! I'm simply asking you to grace us with your presence, not to make a life commitment!"

"Life commitment?" Takahashi asked, opening his tiny shoe locker. "Where did you learn such a complex concept?"

"Hey, stop trying to distract me! ...This is a rare opportunity. This group date? It's with some girls from TML High, and this girl I was talking about, she's amazing– her friends too, they're all actors–"

Takahashi zoned out, recognizing Kyoko's school name alone. The chances of meeting her again were low, but...

"Fine. I'll go with you," Takahashi finally agreed. "But just once."

"And I then I did one for Neo brand contacts," the girl went on, twisting her fluffy hair around her finger and smacking the restaurant table.

"I remember that– the girl with the orange eyes! You're a real TV star, Ishida," Hibiki praised her, leaning across the table and giving her his full attention. "You're really taking off with your career, aren't you?"

"Oh? You think?" she asked, coyly holding her face. "And we've known each other long enough... Call me Harumi."

"Harumi!" he gleefully called her name out, causing her to giggle.

Takahashi sat solemnly, smacked between two girls who occasionally rammed his sides with their bony elbows. Every few seconds they would laugh charmingly and lean inward to tease him, but nothing could make him budge. He realized that this was a mistake and that he was absolutely miserable.

_I came on this group date bearing an impossible hope... Yes. I had hoped that one of these girls would be Kyoko. _Takahashi thought, guarding his stern face. _But miracles don't happen twice in a row. I'd have to live in a shojo story for that kind of insane probability to occur._

"You're so quiet!" the girl on his right finally said. "Susumu, is it? I heard that you're quite the star yourself. At sports?"

"I guess," he admitted, not elaborating any further. The girl glanced at him momentarily and pouted childishly, almost as if saying, 'So cold, what a waste of a good face.'

She gave up and turned her attention to the brown haired boy beside her, Ohayashi, who was another member of Hibiki and Takahashi's basketball team.

"You've been so quiet, too!" she poked his cheek, causing him to flinch and smile uncomfortably.

"Sasaki, stop pointing that out. You're making them nervous," another girl said, glaring at her from across the table.

"No, you're the one making them nervous! Stop scolding me in front of them!"

"Boys don't like pushy girls. Haven't you learned that by now?"

"I'm not pushy, I'm just helpful!" Sasaki stood up, her huge designer sunglasses falling off her head. Takahashi caught them as they flew at him.

"Honestly," the scolding girl continued. "Can't we show a little restraint here?"

Takahashi carefully slid the monster-sized sunglasses towards the table's center, careful not to engage Sasaki's "helpfulness".

"Ishikawa, you're a lot like Takahashi here," Hibiki announced, watching his best friend amusedly. "Cool and always the voice of reason."

"Yeah! I noticed that, too," Sasaki rushed, plunking her helpful butt back down. "You–"

"Uh. Pardon me, I'll be right back." Takahashi stood up, pulling away from his cushion.

"–two should go out," Sasaki finished, watching as the young man wandered and disappeared to the back of the restaurant.

"That guy," Hibiki uttered under his breath. _He knew that we were setting him up with Ishikawa, so he ran off! Well I can't blame him. It's not like he wanted to come here... _

_But... I'm kind of worried about him now... What if he doesn't like girls?_

Walking past the food-prep counter, Takahashi glanced around for clues of the restroom's whereabouts. Though he didn't particularly need to go, he was still eager to retreat from the boisterous group date. If possible, he even wanted to leave early.

He stopped when he heard someone speak out from the nearby wooden slider.

"Kyoko," a woman's voice carried. "You just snuck in under my nose, didn't you?"

"Ha. Yes," the girl answered politely. "I got home early from today's shoot, so I came in the back entrance. Oh, and I took out the garbage. I want to help out tonight, so I'll be getting ready now."

"My my!" the woman's voice grew alarmed. "What happened to your knees?"

"Oh. That? It's just some scratches. Don't worry, I'm fine really! I just had a little accident on my bike this morning–"

_No way,_ Takahashi thought, his anxious eyes burning into the door. _Is that her voice? Is that the same Kyoko? _

_No– I shouldn't wait for her in front of the door like this... I'll look like a stalker!_

Hurriedly, he found the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

_So in the end, she really did come to the group date?_ he wondered, shaking away the thought. _No... it sounds like she works here... But why? Are the owners her parents?_

_I need to go back to my group._

After waiting a bit, he quietly left the bathroom and padded back to his table, finding that a few members had already left.

"Fukuda and Aoki hooked up," Hibiki whispered to Takahashi as he sat down.

"Ah," he emitted, looking around purposefully.

"Is something wrong?" Hibiki asked, puzzled by his best friend's sudden skittishness.

"I... I want another drink," Takahashi said, almost turning his head all the way around.

"Geez, you look like an owl." Hibiki stood up, raising his hand and waiving it off into the unknown. "Oy, we need some service over heeere."

"Hibiki!" his other male friend, Ando, pulled him down. "Don't do that, it's embarrassing!"

"You're embarrassing!" Hibiki fought against Ando's grasp, standing up once again. "Didn't you want to order something, too? A dessert? You shouldn't hold back just because sweets are unmanly. A true man should be honest with his feelings!"

"Yes!" Sasaki cheered, clapping her hands. "I feel inspired now!"

"I feel embarrassed..." Ishikawa muttered, chewing on her drink straw.

A waitress quickly darted from behind the counter, scrambling and tying her apron strings.

"Yes, coming!" she called, smiling with a plain but professional face. "I'll be taking over as your server tonight. Thanks again for coming to Daruma-ya. What did you need?"

"More tea," Takahashi answered, raising a tiny iron kettle up and looking away.

"Right–" she said, bending to grab it but finally meeting his gaze.

He had planned to act uninterested, but he couldn't help it. She was so close– it was yet another rare opportunity to see her in person. His eyes had slipped on their own accord.

"–Ka, ha, ka," Kyoko gaged, her pupils shrinking and her face darkening in terror.

_Yes! Just remember my last name, _Takahashi aspired. _Even that's enough!_

"Ta... ka...

–Kyoko-fan number one?" she finally gasped, still unable to remember him.

His expression hardened, solidified by his intense despair.

_A numbering system? ... _he deeply pondered.

* * *

I removed this story's one-shot status. I'll try my best to continue it, thanks for all your comments!

Please forgive any factual errors. The Skip Beat Lexicon is gone, so I can't check stuff as easily anymore...


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